


Perspective Adjustment

by Morgane (smilla840)



Series: Perspective [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fix it obviously, Fury is up to something, M/M, Spoilers for 1x06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilla840/pseuds/Morgane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson has always been good at following orders. Then he dies. That gets him thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perspective Adjustment

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** for episode 6 of Agents of SHIELD, in case you haven't seen it.

All his life Phil Coulson had done what he was told. That was his thing. He followed protocols to the letter, never disobeyed a direct order, and didn’t ask questions that didn’t need to be asked. 

It wasn’t as bad as it sounded. It didn’t mean he was a robot or that he had no feelings. He was just reliable and that was a quality that made him indispensable. His superiors appreciated it, and he was proud of the trust they put in him. With that trust came freedom, and he had more leeway than most to achieve his assigned objectives, teamed up with some amazing people. He had always been adaptable, quick on his feet, and he loved his job. He flourished. Made friends he cared for. Got a reputation he was secretly pleased about. He was content with his life, and very busy.

And if every now and then he had to do things that made him lose sleep at night, if he had regrets, those were few and far between. Sacrifices had to be made in the course of duty, everyone understood that.

Then Phil Coulson died.

And he started to rethink a few things.

\---

Phil wakes up in Medical feeling like crap. That last part is pretty much up to par considering the location but waking up? That’s unexpected.

The doctors tell him he died and that it’s a miracle they managed to bring him back. They have orders to transfer him to Tahiti as soon as he’s stable, where Phil can rest and recover – away from the stress of his job, they add pointedly when he asks for the third time what happened with Loki. The battle was won, they say, and while Phil is glad to hear that he wants to know about _people_ , about Natasha and Maria and Clint – what happened to Clint? –, and they can’t tell him anything.

Fury shows up the day before they’re set to ship him off to Tahiti. He is the first visitor Phil’s had since he woke up, and that means something is up. 

“What’s going on, boss?” he asks, and Fury explains. 

It’s not what Phil expected.

“But Barton and Romanoff are okay?” he checks again just to make sure.

“They’re fine. Told them to lay low for now.” 

That eases something inside Phil, the tension that had been residing in his shoulders ever since he woke up alone finally loosening. His doctors will be pleased, no doubt.

“Now, about that other thing,” Fury goes on, fixing his eye on him sternly. “I’ll tell everyone you’ve survived in due time. Until then you’re not to contact anyone – that’s an order, Coulson. You just focus on getting better.”

Phil can’t help the unhappy slant of his mouth, but he nods anyway.

“Yes, sir.”

Orders are orders.

-

He hears from Maria first, after three lonely weeks of blazing heat and exhausting PT. She yells at him for a while but Phil is too relieved to care. He was starting to believe Fury would never tell anyone he was still alive.

“I can’t believe you didn’t call,” Maria grumbles, and Phil can hear the unhappiness in her voice. He feels a little guilty, but then she’s one to talk: she would have done the same thing in his shoes. Orders matter just as much to Maria Hill as they do to Phil Coulson.

“You know how it goes,” he says placatingly. “Has Fury told everyone or is it just you?”

“Everyone who’s Level 7. The Avengers don’t know though.”

Phil frowns. Those two sentences put together – intentionally, no doubt – require some clarification. “What about the Avengers who _are_ Level 7?” he asks and Maria’s silence is not a good sign.

“I’m sorry, Phil. Barton and Romanoff still don’t know. Fury’s orders. He wanted me to remind you not to contact them.”

A humourless smile stretches Phil’s lips. Of course. 

“Any idea why?” He’s been out of the loop since the attack but he can’t think of a reason why Fury would risk pissing off two of his best agents. And they _will_ be pissed off, make no mistake. 

Maria hesitates. “Barton’s security clearance has been suspended pending investigation.” 

“What? That’s–” the most ridiculous thing Phil’s ever heard, but Maria ignores his interruption, talking over his protest:

“The WSC has agents watching him, and they can’t know you’re alive, not yet. That means we can’t tell Barton, and you know Romanoff won’t lie to him.”

Yes, Phil does know that. Then again, he isn’t supposed to lie to Clint either, and he has to close his eyes as the magnitude of what he’s doing hits him. His chest aches.

“How long?” He asks.

“How long what?”

“How long until they’re told?”

Maria sighs. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. I’ve got to go now.”

“Phil, don’t do anything stu–”

“Thanks, Maria.”

He hangs up and stares at the wall for a long time. When he finally looks away, he’s made his decision.

\---

Barton asked him out once. 

They had been friends for a few years, known each other longer, and Phil almost – _almost_ – said yes. There was no denying the attraction he felt for the man, and he knew they would be good together. But non-fraternisation rules existed for a reason and so he turned him down.

Clint didn’t even look surprised.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Phil asked, concerned. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Clint or make things awkward between them, but SHIELD’s regulations were clear. This could not happen, not while they were in the same chain of command.

“Nah, I figured that’s what you’d say. Just had to know for sure.” Clint smiled, somewhere between wistful and resigned, and Phil nodded as if he understood and went back to work.

In truth he _hadn’t_ understood. It was against the rules and Clint knew how Phil felt about those. After all, it had been the source of a great deal of friction between them back when they were getting to know one another – and of plenty of gentle teasing too. Of course Barton had known he would say no. What Phil couldn’t figure out was why he had asked anyway.

He finally figured it out a year later, while Barton was yelling at him that sometimes the fucking orders didn’t matter if you cared about something enough, and that he would fucking resign if Phil put Romanoff down after all the trouble he had gone through to bring her in.

He understood then, but he didn’t say anything. Barton had gotten it right the first time around. Phil had made his choice a long time ago. 

\---

Going against a lifetime of obedience is harder than Phil thought, but he is no coward and he won’t turn back now that he’s made up his mind.

So he calls.

It’s the number of Clint’s burner phone, one SHIELD doesn’t have and the WSC shouldn’t know about. He keeps it in a safehouse in Brooklyn and Phil only knows about it because Clint got the flu one time he was staying there and got a concerned neighbour to call Phil and let him know he was going to miss their briefing. To this day Phil doesn’t know if Clint realised he used the wrong phone. He just hopes he hasn’t tossed it. 

He thinks he’ll leave a message and Clint will call him back once he finds it. He certainly isn’t expecting Clint to pick up – hasn’t prepared himself for it –, though looking back it seems obvious Clint would be holed up in his safehouse if the WSC was watching his apartment. Phil really isn’t at his best.

“Yeah?”

The connection is bad but it’s undeniably Clint. He sounds half-asleep, or maybe half-drunk – either way he doesn’t sound okay and Phil suddenly feels at a loss for words.

“Who is it?” Clint asks again, on edge now, and he’s going to hang up if Phil doesn’t say something soon.

“…Clint, it’s me,” he manages to croak out and the silence he gets in return sets his heart pounding.

The dial tone is much worse.

Hitting redial is easy in a way taking the first plunge hadn’t been. He doesn’t know if Clint hung up or if they lost the connection but it doesn’t matter. He’s got to talk to him. 

It rings, and then:

“What the fuck, Coulson?” 

Phil winces but at least Clint picked up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

“Why didn’t you? Fuck, I thought –” Clint’s voice breaks then and Phil closes his eyes for a second. He should have done this sooner. “I thought you were dead.”

“I was, for a little while,” he confesses and Clint takes a shuddering breath. “I’m better now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Fury.”

“Right, of course.” Clint sounds bitter, and Phil can hardly blame him. “What made him change his mind?”

“He didn’t.”

There is a long silence on Clint’s end of the line, and then a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. You disobeyed an order from Fury. _You._ Why?”

“He told the other Level 7s today, but he didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to keep thinking– It just wasn’t fair.” Phil pauses then and worries his lower lip with his teeth. “I care,” he adds quietly, wondering if Clint will hear the echo of the words he had once screamed at him. He hopes he does.

“Where are you?” Clint asks. “Can I see you?”

“Tahiti.”

“ _Tahiti_? What the fuck is in Tahiti?”

His outburst makes Phil smile. It’s been a while. “My physical therapist.”

“Oh. Right. How long will you be there?”

“I’m not sure.”

This time the silence is awkward. They both know Clint can’t come – fooling the WSC’s surveillance team into thinking he hasn’t left his apartment is one thing, but travelling thousands of miles is another entirely. 

And even if he did come, what then?

“Will you tell Natasha I’m okay?” Phil asks when Clint doesn’t say anything else. He rubs his chest absently – it’s starting to hurt again.

“Yeah, sure.” More silence, and the ache is getting worse until Clint finally says: “Can I… Can I talk to you again?”

He sounds like he half-expects Phil to say no, or like he’s ashamed to ask, and the pain spikes for a second. 

“I’ll call tomorrow. Or you can call me anytime,” Phil rushes to assure him and the relief is obvious in Clint’s voice when he says goodbye.

The pain is all but gone.

-

They talk almost every day. There is something a little tentative about it at first, the two of them dancing around sore topics until they stop and have it all out. Things get better after that, not overnight but slowly, carefully. They talk about Loki and Phil dying, about how the WSC’s investigation is going, and sometimes they just talk about their day. In a way it’s almost like getting to know Clint all over again. It’s almost like dating too, except they’re not. They’re just friends – again, still –, and Phil counts himself lucky to even have that much.

The calls continue after Phil gets back. He is stationed on the helicarrier until his team is ready while Clint’s in New York, and it’s frustrating to be so close and still be unable to see him. While Clint has been cleared of all charges he still isn’t officially in the know, and whether that’s because the WSC is being stubborn or Nick has some other trick up his sleeve is a mystery to Phil. The calls keep him going. It helps him forget for a little while each day how much he wants to talk to Clint face to face, to ask him out on a date and see what he will say. And he wants to, oh, how he wants to. Sometimes he wants it so much he can hardly breathe.

His team is a good distraction. They’re good, and he tells Clint all about them. He doesn’t gloss over the bad parts and alternately makes him laugh and curse depending on how their day went. In return Clint talks about Natasha and how Rogers is adapting to SHIELD. It’s comfortable, and Phil still wants more. If Clint will have him.

He feels different, and in a way he is. He doesn’t care so much about orders anymore – people are what really matter.

Others notice – of course they do – but Phil doesn’t care what they think, especially not Agent Blake. Not when he wanted him to throw Jemma off the bus. That’s an order Phil would have obeyed a lifetime ago, favouring the need of the many over her one life, but he can’t do that anymore. Maybe it makes him less of an agent, but he’d like to think he’s gained more than he’s lost. He certainly won’t lose any sleep over it, not when he’s got this team, and maybe, just maybe–

Once they’re in the air again, leaving the sandbox behind, he calls Clint. He doesn’t want to wait anymore. Saying life’s too short is a cliché, but in their line of work it’s also the truth and Phil has enough regrets as it is.

“Hey.” Clint is smiling when he answers, Phil can hear it in his voice, and that makes him smile back reflexively. He hopes Clint can hear it too.

“Hi. How are you?”

“Good, good. Just came back from Thailand actually, so I’m on downtime for the next few days.”

“That’s nice.” Phil can work with that. They don’t have a new op yet, and if they change course now he can be in New York in less than a day. He knows Melinda won’t ask any questions. 

“What about you, did anything exciting lately?” Clint asks.

“You could say that.” Understatement of the century. He’ll tell him later. “I was thinking. We’re heading to New York and I thought, maybe… you’d like to have coffee with me while I’m there?”

He holds his breath. There is no mistaking the invitation for anything other than what it is. He just hopes he isn’t too late.

“I’d love to,” Clint says. He’s smiling again, and Phil feels perfectly at ease for the first time in months.

 _Thank you. I love you,_ he thinks but doesn’t say – not yet.

Soon though.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure there’s going to be a sequel. I really want to write that date (and why Fury is being a dick!).


End file.
